Falling for Faith Page 6

  Michael had always had a protective side, although he’d hidden it well. He came off as arrogant, angry, and domineering. But it stemmed from an ingrained need to protect humanity. That’s what he was created for.

  Protecting the weak humans.

  A weight sat on the bedroll near his feet, and he shifted his gaze to find Faith sitting there, staring at him. Her eyes were wide and red. Her face splotchy.

  Faith had tried to ignore him. She could sense him out there, watching her. The humming in her body had been a low vibration, insistent. She knew when he walked away, as the humming grew less intense, and when he came closer, it grew stronger. She’d tried to go about her own business of keeping busy and thinking through what she needed to do to get out of here. Think about that man who had killed the Howards, and figure out how to bring him to justice. But all she could think about was Michael. And Eli.

  As unbelievable as it was that Michael was an archangel, it all made so much damned sense. The disappearing act, the healing, the undeniable pull she felt toward him. The humming buzz of her body when he was around.

  “I really want to hate you.” Her voice was a whisper, and she saw him flinch when she spoke, as if the words actually hurt him.

  “I know,” he said simply. The tiny patch of hair on his chin moved with his words, and Faith contemplated that patch. A soul patch. Was that irony? According to the Bible, he was the angel that weighed the souls to get into heaven, deeming them worthy or not. Was that his reminder of what he was?

  “How much do you know about me?”

  “I’ve seen your dreams the last few nights.” He spoke quietly, his careful voice still filling the tiny boathouse.

  “So, you know about… Eli?” He nodded. She hugged her knees to her chest. It was a defensive move, and she knew it. But she just wanted to curl into a ball and die. She’d never talked about Eli. Not to anybody. And the truth was that after he died, she didn’t have anybody to tell. Eli had been the one person she’d told everything to.

  “You really don’t want this either, do you?” She’d gotten that vibe from him, especially at first, when he’d tied her to his motorcycle. Even though it seemed like he’d enjoyed it as much as she had. Even if neither of them had wanted to.

  “I want it as much as you do, Faith.” His eyes held a determined glint, and she found herself afraid again. She bounced between fear and desire with Michael, and the bitch of it was they fed off each other. Faith was afraid of her desire. The desire led to a delicious fear of what he could do to her body. The desire made her feel guilty, afraid of the guilt she knew she would feel if she succumbed to the lust that wracked her every time he was near her.

  “I knew as soon as you came out here.” Her legs unfurled in front of her, stretching. “I could feel you watching me, and when you stopped…”

  She turned her head and saw him watching her intently, an unreadable expression on his face.

  “…I missed you.”

  An eyebrow quirked up over those silver fucking eyes, and a smirk snuck across his lips, that tiny patch of hair twitching. “You like being watched?”

  Heat flared in her belly at the timbre of his voice. “You like pushing buttons?”

  “Only yours, Sweetheart.”

  He had sat up, and suddenly he was in her space. She could feel the control she’d grasped so tightly in the last few days unraveling through her fingertips.

  In a flash, he was on his feet, leaning down, offering his hand to her. “You ever willingly give up control?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “But you like it when I take it from you?”

  She knew if she answered this question honestly, she would be in some deep shit. Swallowing hard, she looked into his eyes.

  “I know you, Faith.” Silver shone at her through his piercing gaze. His hand was still outstretched, but his gaze travelled over his shoulder. He was standing next to the boat slip, and a small ancient canoe was tied up, dangling next to the water by a large rope. Facing the boat, if he took three large steps backward, he would be in the water. She watched as he fingered the end of the rope thoughtfully. “I can take control away from you, make you forget, if only for a little while.” His gaze returned to hers. “It’ll just be you and me.” The heat in his eyes warmed the chill she’d been suffering from since he’d been gone.

  She knew whatever he had planned would be explosive, but could she do it? Could she surrender? Did she want to forget? Faith knew in this moment, submitting to Michael would change her. Irrevocably. But would she ever come back from it? Did she want to? What was she living for now, anyway? Eli was gone, she couldn’t go back to the city, she was running from some unnamed man. All control was gone anyway, why not just stop trying to pretend?

  She nodded and reached out her hand, watching it tremble. As soon as her fingers touched his, he grabbed her and yanked her up against his hard body with such force she expelled her breath in a whoosh. The humming was loud in her ears, vibrating through her body, tying her stomach into knots.

  “I do need to know my enemy…” she whispered against the hard planes of his chest.

  “I’m not your enemy, Faith.” His breath on her ear was a warm current, swiftly pulling her under.

  “You keep saying that, but I think you are.”

  “You need to trust me.” With those words, he slowly ran his fingertips down her sides, raising goose bumps in their wake. It was cold outside, but her body was on fire with his touch. Michael took a step back. “Undress.” His voice was commanding, definitely a Dom’s voice. She choked back a laugh. He was probably the original Dom.

  Unable to disobey, her fingers clutched the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, her eyes glued to the boards in front of her. They fumbled with the button on her jeans, unable to work the mechanism she typically didn’t even have to think about undoing. Finally, the hole released the brass piece, and she lowered the zipper, shimmying out of her jeans.

  “Stop.”

  Standing in front of him, eyes down, she felt his gaze caress her skin, flushing it with desire. She had no defenses against Michael and the onslaught of sensations pouring through her body. And he hadn’t even really touched her yet. He felt the board compress with his weight as he moved closer.

  His mouth laid a hot kiss on her shoulder, the inside of his lips and his tongue warming her further. She was so hot.

  He held her wrists together with one hand. His other hand found the rope he’d been fingering earlier and wrapped it around her hands, pulling them tight against the boat. She was raised on her tiptoes, and the cool air of the boat house kissed her skin along with Michael’s heated gaze.

  “What are you doing? I haven’t done anything.” Was he going to hurt her? A shiver of desire coursed through her at the idea.

  He smiled at her, a genuine smile of pleasure, and it sent a tingle straight to her toes. “This isn’t a punishment, Faith. You need to let go of your control, Faith. I said that already. I’m helping you.”

  “You’re the control freak here.”

  He chuckled. “That may be.” A fingertip traced his bottom lip in thought. “Have you ever… played like this? Submit? Sexually?”

  Only with Eli. A choked whisper escaped, “Yes.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  Oh God. Her answer came out a needy moan. “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going to play with you, Faith.” A tear sprang to her eye, a tear of guilt for betraying Eli like this, because she wanted it so badly. She wanted this with Michael, the thing Eli had introduced her to, the thing she’d only shared with him. She’d never imagined it with anyone else. And now she was going to do it with Michael. Blinking back the tears, she tried to focus on what Michael was doing.

  He was rummaging around in a tackle box behind him, coming out with some fishing weights and a roll of twine. He laid them on the table next to him, and went back to digging for more. He pulled a long metal bar off the shelf in front of him and two clamps
from the peg board. Finding a knife, he cut open a life vest and used duct tape to tape pieces of it to the insides of the clamps. He worked quietly, his movements efficient, and Faith couldn’t stop swallowing the saliva that kept reappearing in her mouth.

  The anticipation was immense, and wet heat flooded Faith’s panties. She licked her lips at the thoughts swirling through her mind. All the things he’d pulled out were random, but he obviously had a plan for each one. She squirmed against the rope holding her hands fast and shivered in the cold air.

  Michael spun around with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. In his hand, he held a paint stirrer. Faith quirked an eyebrow at him. “Quite a collection you have there.”

  “I’m creative.”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  “You’re about to be fucked into oblivion.”

  That shocked the snappy comebacks right out of her. She watched as he picked up the twine and approached her. Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra and pulled it up to her hands, affixing it to the rope so it wouldn’t dangle. How thoughtful.

  Michael palmed her breasts, squeezing them together and kneading them between his large hands. Faith arched her back to give him more, telling him with her body what she wanted because her voice wasn’t working.

  His mouth lowered to one breast, and Faith let out a groan as the feel of his lips around her nipple sent a shock of pleasure to her groin. He suckled gently, swirling his tongue around, then captured the nipple between his teeth, pulling gently until it was a stiff peak. Then he sucked hard. A loud hiss escaped Faith and she nearly came right then. It had been so long since a man had touched her.

  Michael swiftly tied one end of the twine around her erect nipple before taking the other nipple in his mouth and giving it the same treatment.

  When he had the string tied rather tautly between her breasts, he turned back to the table and grabbed the fishing weights. Faith eyeballed the rather large bulge in his pants.

  His eyes were on her face, questioning. “I’ve seen a lot of people get pleasure from pain.” She just bet he had. “And I’ve doled out my fair share.” Again, no surprises there. “Do you trust me?” She nodded. For some reason, she did. In this. Since their first meeting, she’d known he could bring her untold pleasure. “Danger has a bracing effect.”

  More Sun Tzu. Can this guy apply The Art of War to everything? “You certainly know your Art of War.” A nervous chuckle escaped her mouth, hanging from the ceiling of a boat house, watching this man prepare to wage war on her body.

  He smirked at her. “Who do you think taught Tzu? He didn’t just make it all up from a divine dream. Or maybe he did.” His voice was crushed gravel, scraping Faith’s skin, covering it with goose bumps.

  Michael went to work, silently affixing the fishing weights to the string between her breasts, adding more weight with each one. He stopped at five, which was almost uncomfortable, but not quite.

  The weight on her nipples added a sensation of pain and heat that made her tremble with need and anticipation. He worked his fingers over her body skillfully, skimming his hands over her waist, across her stomach, down her thighs. Then he grabbed her butt.

  Pulling her pelvis flush against his, he growled in her ear. “You are mine, Faith. Mine.” His mouth captured hers in a hungry kiss, a kiss of possession. She couldn’t keep her tongue from dueling with his, though. It was as if, even in this compromised position, she still wanted him to know she had power. And judging by the noises coming from the back of his throat and the urgent press of his fingers into her flesh and the size of the erection grinding into her pelvis, she did.

  “Hang on, Sweetheart. I’m going to twist you around.” He gently swiveled her on the rope she was dangling from until she was presenting him her backside. She arched her back, swiveling it against him until he groaned. Then he was gone.

  When he returned, he had two crates stacked on top of each other.

  “Stand on these. I want you to lean on the boat.” He helped her climb up, and she leaned over, putting her hands on the canoe, which was tied to the wall opposite her, a fixed point for her to balance on.

  Michael spread her legs as far as they would go on the crates, and massaged her ankles before lifting one and affixing a clamp around it. He tightened to restrict movement, the suggestion of bondage. Faith appreciated him not tightening it completely, as the padding wasn’t really comfortable. Although comfort wasn’t really a part of this, was it? He spread her other leg so she was balanced precariously on the crates with the bar spreading her ankles and the clamps around them.

  Then, in a flash and a rather painful ripping, her panties were gone. The only sound in the still boathouse was both of their ragged breathing, tearing the air to shreds.

  With both hands, Michael kneaded and squeezed her butt, rubbing it gently before squeezing it hard. Faith nearly couldn’t control herself, she’d turned feral, writhing and arching against his touch. The preparations had been lengthy and the anticipation intense. Now Faith needed to know what was next, what he would do to her, how he would pleasure her. Because she knew, deep down, that’s what this was all about. And it sent a ripple of excitement shuddering under her heated skin.

  Then his hands were gone, replaced with a resounding THWACK! A gasp escaped her mouth at the suddenness of it all.

  “That’s it, Sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” His low voice in her ear sent desire pulsing through her body. The sting of the paddling coupled with the tension on her breasts set her body on fire, inside and out.

  The sting took her breath away, but his hand was on the sting, almost immediately, rubbing it to a dull heat. Then the THWACK of the paint stick came again, and Faith hissed air between her teeth while he rubbed it back to warmth, his calloused fingers burnishing her skin. Each stinging THWACK was replaced with warmth through his caresses, his touch, his words. Flames licked her insides, and after the third paddle or so, the stings faded to heat. Just heat. Her gasps turned to moans with each slap of the paint stick. Spread and exposed to him like she was, she was powerless to do anything but feel. One on her right cheek, one on her left, one a little lower, one across both. His paddles were all over the place, not to be predicted, but when he smacked her across the bundle of nerves at the base of her folds, she came undone with a blinding flash of heat. The spasm radiated from her clit to her thighs, and was made even more intense by the fact she had to balance herself on the crates with his makeshift spreader bar. Her fingers clenched on the hull of the boat.

  “Oh, God… Please, Michael.” Faith didn’t recognize the husky quality her voice took on, tearing the silence surrounding them.

  “Ah… Your first words. So good, Faith. What do you need, Sweetheart?” The conciliatory words were a sharp contrast to the coarse tone of his voice. His fingers dipped into her heated folds, swirling around in the pulsing wetness, drawing her climax out in lingering waves.

  Her breaths were coming in ragged gasps, and it took a while for her to form a coherent sentence. “You. I need you.”

  “Music to my ears.” His arm came around her waist, lifting her from the crates, while he kicked them out of the way into the water to drift away. He set her down gently on the ground before a swift unbuckling of his belt, and a quick zip, and Faith was spun around to face him. Still bound by the rope, she let him arrange her body the way he wanted it, leaning her back against the canoe and lifting her legs over him so that he was inside the spreader bar, holding her hips up, aligned at her entrance.

  His silver eyes watched her carefully, but she was fine. The pain from the rope stretching her shoulders, the weights pulling on her breasts, and the paddling along with the delicious orgasmic pain were all compounding to push her into a frenzy. She writhed against him, willing him inside her. And when it finally happened, she nearly lost her mind.

  With a hiss, he pushed himself into her slick heat, clenching her hips as he guided her pelvis to meet his. She trembled with the overwhelming emotions that poured through
her as her insides pulled and pulsed to accommodate him. As strange as it was, this felt so damned right. Michael fit her, he filled her, he touched places she didn’t know needed touching. She felt herself stretching around his girth, molding to his size and shape, fitting him perfectly.

  His hands gripping her hips tightly, Michael was pumping in and out of her slowly, his eyes boring into her, and she was eager for more. She needed it. Faith raised her hips against him to meet his as they thrust inside her. She was so close to another, as he was stroking something inside her with every thrust, pushing her further and further over the edge. Michael clutched her tightly enough to leave bruises, stilling her.

  “Slow down, Sweetheart. It’s been awhile for me, and it’s never been like this.”

  One of his hands reached up and tugged on the string between her breasts, and she came in a flood around him. Michael pulled out a little with a hiss.

  His eyes were glued to where they joined, and Faith wished she could see what he saw. “This is so beautiful. Your cream all over me like this. Oh fuck it.” He slammed into her as she came down from her climax, pounding into her so hard he triggered another climax. When she started pulsing around him, he came with a roar.

  His chest heaving, Michael stepped closer and kissed her thoroughly before gently untying each nipple, licking it and suckling the blood back into them. The sensations were too much. His hands on her back, held her still while he brought fire to her nipples. When he bent down to undo the spreader bar, rubbing her ankles in the process, Faith whimpered. This was so good.

  She felt the tears slipping down her cheeks. It had never been like this with Eli. Never. Eli had been good. He’d been a great Dom, but she’d never totally lost control like that with him. Some part of her mind had always held back something, whether it was running through her grocery list or focusing on something he was doing she didn’t quite like. It hadn’t been intentional, but there had always been some part of her not completely focused on Eli. But with Michael, she’d been there, with him, the entire time. And it had been so much better. Guilt flooded her body and then rushed out her eyes in the form of tears.